A blog about internal insights that are mostly improv related.

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Worst Day of my Life

I should probably have two different blogs. There is a reason why I am sitting at home writing blogs on Christmas. I am all alone. All alone. My son is at his grandparents.

I don’t think I have been so all alone in my entire life, mainly because I can’t even admit that I am all alone. That would cause me a lot more problems than it’s worth. That fact that I am all alone on Christmas weekend needs a long explanation. I am aware of this, so I chose to keep it to myself. I am trapped. No one to talk to, but my cats are here.

I love my cats. Such pretty babies.

I watched a lot of movies today. I did a lot of writing. I am kind of proud of that last blog. I made some amazing connections. I always get excited when I make connections. I feel that I made Jesus proud with that one. I like making Jesus proud of me.

My husband’s parents are not pleased with my writing hobby. To be specific, they have never seen this blog and it’s a really good thing for everyone involved that they haven’t. They are mad about a Facebook post. I was uninvited to Christmas. Then they invited me again, but I decided it would be for the best that I didn’t go this year. I thought my husband should go alone and work it out with them. I gave him my permission to do this.

I can’t even imagine what would happen if they read the blog post “Christmas Depresses Me”. No, I am not into the secular traditions so much and it kind of stresses me out, but I never asked to be left all alone. I told him that it will be OK, and that it’s not really a big deal to me. To be honest, I was usually worked on Christmas. When you are single, you are always the one forced to work on Christmas. However, I wasn’t ALL alone. I was at work.

That’s why I always went to Midnight Mass. I usually worked the day of Christmas.

I don’t know what to do. The funny thing is that my husband knows about everything I write before I write it. Literally everything. He is in the know. I have a very honest relationship with him. It’s almost too honest. I know it is the Ibsen ideal but I think it’s perfectly OK to not know everything about your partner and have every fantasy about him broken. Some things need to be left alone.

It’s perfectly OK to have a little bit of emotional privacy in a marriage and a little romance. If you are totally and completely honest with each other it completely destroys the romance. Romance is all about fantasy. A marriage needs a little bit of fantasy to survive. Not so much that you are both living a lie, but it’s more about a mutually agreed upon vision that you both share. You mutually agree to see each other in the best light. In order for this vision to sustain itself, there are some topics that need to be glossed over.

Mutually agreeing to see each other in the best light is called romance. There is nothing real about romance, but it’s needed. I need romance.

The only perfectly honest relationship a man should have is with his mother, and even then there are some details that it’s better that his mother not know. However, most mothers “know” anyway. That’s their job. His mother just decides if it is her place to bring it up or not. She always knows.

However with my husband it’s not just some things that he keeps from his mother. He pretty much keeps everything from his mother. He’s afraid to tell her anything negative. It’s a really strange paradox. A mother and son relationship is supposed to be all about truth and honesty. You should be able to tell your mother things you would never tell anyone else. There should be a lot of trust there. Moms want to know the truth.

Mothers don’t need “romance” from their sons. They shouldn’t need to be humored. That’s kind of what she’s demanding out of him. She wants to see him in a perfect light, and that’s the only light she wants to see him in. Anything else makes her really depressed. If anyone shatters this perfect vision of him, it makes her really depressed. She doesn’t want to hear, read, or see anything that contradicts how she sees him. It makes her very depressed and she will take it out on the messenger.

If a man cannot have an open and honest relationship with his own mother, that throws everything off. I feel like I am his mother, but I am not his mother. I am his wife. I am the one that needs the romance. I am the one that needs to be humored. I am the one who needs the fantasy. I am the one that needs to see him in the best light.

She should already know all these things. She shouldn’t have to learn about it from reading Facebook or a blog that I wrote. She might have been upset because that’s how she learned that I needed to get an MRI, on Christmas. Kevin has known for quite some time.

I have to tell someone. Since I am a writer it just feels more comfortable writing it out. That way my thought process is in order. Of course Kevin knows.

This is a serious issue and I really can’t handle it on my own. I am a mom and I need some help. My son needs to be cared for. That’s really my biggest concern. The only way we can handle this on our own is if my husband quits his job and finds something more flexible. He needs to do this soon, because Trump will cut Obamacare and Medicaid and we need to be grandfathered in. I need health insurance, obviously. That’s not an option.

There are also going to be some major world changes. We need to get on this now.

My psychic instincts are strong. I am sure I don’t have cancer. However, I do kind of show the signs of someone who has cancer. My immune system is compromised, so I get deathly ill from a common flu or cold. I have enormous back pain on my right side. I can barely walk. Recently, my appetite has completely gone away. I have not really eaten anything today and I am not really hungry. I just had a couple slices of cheese. I have had a lot of issues with digestion. I have had a lot of major weight loss, but at least that’s a positive. I get a lot of compliments about that.

Everyone asks me what my weight loss secret is. I lost 40 lbs.

The cancer I was screened for was uterine cancer. That’s kind of scary, because my problems have nothing to do with my uterus. So I am happy to be getting the MRI so we can see what else is wrong. That’s the area that they need to target.

That’s also part of the reason I decided not to go. I am someone who is very sick, and I can’t humor them for three days straight. I don’t want to ruin their Christmas, and I know how much it means to them. I have gone to their home sick before, and it seemed to upset them. They even mentioned it to my aunt. It obviously really bothered them. I am a lot more stressed out about having to put on a happy face and pretending that everything is OK than the actual knowledge that I might have a terminal illness.

Yes, pretending that nothing is wrong stresses me out more than actually having something wrong. Please don’t do that to sick people. It causes them a lot of stress. To pretend that everything is OK would make me nuts I think. I think I would go nuts.

I am sorry it’s such bad timing, but Kevin is so stressed out with his job and this is the only time that he has off. I don’t get any time off unless Kevin gets time off, and that’s what people don’t get. I am a mom, and my mother is dead. It’s not like I can’t drop my son off at my mother’s. Everyone seems to assume that everyone has a mother. I don’t.

Christmas should be a happy time but it should be more about celebrating Jesus Christ. It should be about giving, and not presents so much. It should be about giving of yourself. It should be the one day out of the year where it’s not about you at all. Even if you are not a Christian, you should at least appreciate the holiday and what it stands for.

It’s about self-sacrifice. That’s why I am all alone today. I told him to go without me. This is my self-sacrifice. Writing it out in a blog that no one will read is my outlet.